


Buttons

by victoryscreech357



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coraline (2009) Fusion, Inspired by Coraline, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoryscreech357/pseuds/victoryscreech357
Summary: Kurt feels invisible no matter where he is. At school, with his friends, and even his own family doesn’t seem to notice him. At first, having his old family back seems like a dream come true, but dreams all too often turn into nightmares...
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Dollhouse

  
Kurt Hummel had always considered himself a unique person.

However, it was a bit hard to feel as such when he started classes at Dalton. For starters, the school had a strict dress code, and whoever was seen without the uniform on was given detention. That meant that Kurt had lost his number one way of expressing himself; through fashion. Wearing the navy and red blazer meant that he looked exactly like the other boys at school, and while Kurt was glad he wasn’t being singled out by bullies anymore, it made him feel invisible.

To make matters worse, he was feeling just as ignored at home. Kurt had recently gained a stepmother and a stepbrother, and his parents had spent their honeymoon savings on his transfer, as well as a down payment on a larger house. Every weekend, Kurt had been home, helping his new family move. It was tiresome work, but he was happy to see that his dad seemed healthier than ever. Kurt had been worried sick for weeks after his father’s heart attack back in late September, but thankfully, Carole seemed to be even more strict than he was with his father’s diet, so Kurt could relax a bit.

Currently, Kurt was doing French homework in the student lounge. The room was used for Dalton’s glee club, the Warblers, but they didn’t have rehearsal that day.

Or so Kurt was led to believe.

Kurt thought he would have been told about any meetings, seeing as how he was a member of the Warblers, but as voices approached the lounge where Kurt and a few other students were studying, he was soon to be surprised.

“Wes, we tied with another group at Sectionals, we need to hit harder at Regionals!”

Kurt, no longer paying attention to his French textbook, listened.

“What if Blaine sings Breakeven by The Script?”

“Thad, that song doesn’t suit his voice at all, he should sing Cooler Than Me.”

“Don’t be stupid, David.”

The doors to the lounge swung open to reveal six members of the Warblers. Wes, Thad, and David were the heads of the glee club, and thus, were the leaders. Nick and Jeff, neither of whom were seen without the other. And, trailing the others, was Blaine, who was the first one to notice Kurt, and gave him a small wave and a smile before joining the argument between the three boys at the front of the group.

“Guys, we just tied at Sectionals. Regionals isn’t for months, why don’t we relax a bit and brainstorm later?”

“That’s right, Blaine!” Nick interjected. “We _tied._ With a public school, no less!”

Jeff added, “We need to work harder to beat them next time. What were they called? Cool Reflections?”

Kurt sighed, and closed his book, accepting that he couldn’t focus on homework. “New Directions, and what does being a public school have to do with how they perform?”

Blaine raised his hand, seemingly about to back him up, but was interrupted by Wes. “Kurt, we appreciate your concern, and your feedback is valuable to us, but you’re a biased party.” Wes made his way over to the bench and sat squarely in the middle, followed by David and Thad. “You transferred from McKinley, didn’t you? You’re a former member of our enemy team, as well. As much as we respect your opinion-”

_‘Which you don’t.’_ thought Kurt.

“-all of the Warblers have to have our own best interests at heart, which means, no defending the enemy!” Wes gestured to Kurt, then turned to Blaine. “And no delaying brainstorming for Regionals!” With that, Wes pulled a gavel (his most prized possession) out of his bag, and hammered it on the table in front of him.

**BANG!**

**BANG!**

Once Wes was satisfied with abusing the table, he set the gavel down and spoke once more. “I’m very sorry for this, Kurt, but I must ask you to leave while we discuss the songs for Regionals.”

Kurt felt a sudden pang of indignation. “But I’m a member of the Warblers!”

Wes looked smugly important as he responded, “A member of the Warblers who is in contact with the competition. We don’t want any loose ends that may cost us Regionals.” Surprisingly, Wes then sounded almost sympathetic. “Besides, Blaine’s our soloist, so you only have to worry about learning the backup vocals. We’ll be sure to have you rehearse with everyone else once we have a set list and Blaine has had one-on-one coaching.”

Kurt felt his heart hammering against his ribs, having to take great care to not raise his voice. “Well, I wouldn’t want to get in your way.” He hoisted his messenger bag over his shoulder and grabbed his textbook. Kurt’s face was getting warmer by the second. “I’ll see myself out.”

Kurt hurried out of the room, hoping that none of them saw the tears of anger quickly obscuring his vision. The only things Kurt could hear were the blood roaring in his ears and his shoes thumping against the polished wood floors.

“Kurt, hey-hey, wait up!”

Kurt turned towards the voice, which belonged to none other than Blaine himself, who had an odd mixture of concern and annoyance on his face. He caught up with Kurt, panting.

“I am…” Blaine struggled to catch his breath. “So sorry for that! I don’t know what kind of power trip Wes is on, but that was out of line. I’m gonna talk to them, maybe try and knock some sense into them. I get wanting to win Regionals, but this is ridiculous!” Blaine finally regained his composure and saw the look on Kurt’s face. He furrowed his brows. “I know this is a stupid question, but, are you okay?”

Kurt wanted to tell the truth, he really did. He was safe at Dalton, yes, but he missed his friends like crazy, he was being alienated from the Warblers, and his dad hadn’t even spared him a passing glance since his family had begun to move houses. Nevertheless, Kurt blinked once, then twice, until the tears were gone and he could see clearly again. 

“Yeah, just a bit stressed.” Kurt lied. 

Kurt couldn’t decide if he was relieved or angry that Blaine saw straight through him. “Well,” Blaine said. “It’s obviously more than that, isn’t it?” He started to walk down the hallway with Kurt, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I mean, Wes basically just accused you of being a spy in front of the Warbler council, you still miss everyone from your old school, and I’m sure that the homework here is brutal compared to McKinley.”

Kurt hadn’t even thought about the amount of homework he had to do that day, and the weight on his shoulders bore down on him even harder. On top of the French homework, Kurt also had work for English, Arithmetic, History, and Lab. Blaine must have noticed him falter, and said,

“I know because I’ve been there. In fact, I was so behind when I transferred here that I had to be in the Freshman class, even though I was supposed to be with the Sophomores. I had headaches all the time, I missed my family like crazy…”

“Wait,” Kurt interjected. “I thought you went home on the weekends like me.”

“Nope. My parents paid for me to be here 24/7, which means I only see them during school breaks.” Blaine tensed and continued, in a quieter voice. “Which is both a blessing and a curse.”

Kurt was curious to learn more, but knew better than to pry, especially considering that he and Blaine had only been friends for a little over a month. Still, Blaine was the closest thing he had to a friend at Dalton, and Kurt was just grateful to have someone to talk to.

Even if all he did was lie.

Just when Kurt was about to go for it and ask Blaine to tell him about his family, the bell rang, meaning that Kurt had exactly three minutes to get to Chemistry. Him and Blaine stopped when they reached the nearest staircase, and Blaine asked Kurt,

“Hey, after school, do you wanna hang out for a bit? You know, get coffee?”

With this, Kurt felt as though a needle had skipped in his brain. Not thinking, he answered, “Sure!”

“Alright! Meet me in front of the school, okay?” Blaine started to run up the stairs, then stopped and turned around, looking sheepish. “You have a car, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, good!” Blaine returned to his trek up the stairs, leaving Kurt feeling just a bit better than he had before. With an ounce of the weight taken off his shoulders, Kurt set off for his next class.

Chemistry, like the rest of the day, seemed to drag on forever. Kurt had written so many reactions that his hand had begun to cramp. The bell rang for his final class as he stretched in a feeble attempt to wake himself up. U.S. Politics was next, Kurt’s least favorite class. All the teacher did was read from the textbook in a sleepy, monotonous voice, and the classroom was always stifling. So, as to be expected, falling asleep was a regular occurrence for many students. Unfortunately for Kurt, he happened to be one such student that day.

“Mr. Hummel!”

Kurt was startled awake by the loud voice directly above him, sitting up so fast that a book fell off his desk. He lifted his head and came face to face with Mr. Kinnor, a middle-aged man with much experience and little patience. He was gazing sternly down at Kurt, who was retrieving his book off the floor.

“Am I boring you, perhaps?”

Kurt clasped his hands together, his palms clammy. “No, sir.”

“Are you five? Is this nap time for you?”

Kurt dropped his head to look at his desk, feeling his face grow warm.

“No…”

“Then _why_ did you think it was in any way appropriate to sleep in my class?”

Kurt knew his answer would only make things worse, but he also knew that staying silent wasn’t an option. “I was tired…”

“Excuse me?” Kurt heard Mr. Kinnor’s insulted voice rise in volume. But, much to Kurt’s surprise, this was followed with, “Wesley, what do you want?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Kinnor, but Kurt isn’t the first one to fall asleep in your class.” Wes sounded just as nervous as Kurt felt.

“And?” Wes was on thin ice, by the sound of it.

“So, um…” Wes stammered, trying desperately to not inadvertently insult Mr. Kinnor. “Maybe it’s the classroom? It’s always really hot in here, and we aren’t allowed to take off our blazers.”

Mr. Kinnor was silent, Kurt guessed it was because he was thinking.

Wes continued, “Maybe we could have the heat turned down a few degrees?”

Mr. Kinnor sighed, and Kurt dared to raise his head. The teacher had a look of exhaustion and exasperation on his face, and Kurt could hardly believe when he answered,

“Alright, I’ll consider having the room a bit…” Mr. Kinnor groaned. “ _Cooler._ ” With this massive development, the final bell rang, and as Kurt was gathering his things to leave and meet Blaine, the teacher pulled him aside.

“Listen, Kevin…”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but my name is Kurt.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Kurt. I understand that a new school can be overwhelming, but we hold much higher standards here at Dalton than most other schools in the entire Midwest. I expect you to put more effort into this class.”

Kurt nodded briskly, not wanting to get yelled at again. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I hope I’ll be seeing you conscious during my class on Monday!” Mr. Kinnor yelled as Kurt left the room.

Kurt sped through the school, taking as many shortcuts as he could remember Nick teaching him, before quickly getting lost. After having to ask an older student for directions, Kurt finally found his way to the doors outside, where he could see Blaine speaking with some of the Warblers. Brisk, late autumn air sent dead leaves skittering across the sidewalk, some of which Kurt aimed for when walking towards Blaine. As Kurt got closer, Blaine spotted him, smiling widely, and he seemingly said goodbye to Wes and David.

“So, McKinley is in Lima, right?”

Kurt was caught off guard by the question. “Um, yes, it is. Why are you asking?” He pulled his coat tighter around himself as another breeze sent a chill up his spine.

Blaine looked cold, as well, seeing as how he wrapped his arms around himself and continued, “Well, I’ve been everywhere in Westerville at this point. I’ve only seen Lima in passing, so it would be interesting to check out some places that you’re familiar with.” Another breeze coursed around them. “As long as it’s not outside.”

“Deal.”

The drive from Westerville to Lima was a cheerful one. He learned that Blaine was a fan of 80’s music, had an older brother, and that he was allergic to cats. Blaine learned that Kurt was named after a Sound of Music character (his late mother had been a fan of old musicals), was scared of heights, and that he enjoyed cooking. When they weren’t quizzing each other, Kurt and Blaine were singing along to the radio, badly. Despite being so cold for the ride, Kurt felt warm inside. 

They passed McKinley, and Kurt’s chest ached with a strange combination of homesickness and resentment. While his old school was most certainly the Walmart to Dalton’s Gucci, that didn’t change the fact that his friends, along with his stepbrother, now existed so far away from him. On the other hand, Kurt definitely didn’t miss all the casual harassment and bullying. Being in the New Directions was akin to saying “Please single me out and insult me.” at McKinley, and being gay made things worse, so much so that Kurt’s life was threatened. That was the last straw for his parents, who immediately had him transfer to keep him safe.

It took nearly an hour and a half to get from Westerville to Lima, and both Kurt and Blaine were dying to stretch their legs. Plus, Kurt was eager to show Blaine his hometown. Lima wasn’t anything special, but there were a few places that Kurt was quite fond of, most notably, Breadstix (a knock-off Olive Garden), and the Lima Bean, the town’s coffee shop. Obviously, there was also Hummel Tires and Lube, his dad’s car repair business, but it went without saying that Kurt enjoyed spending time working on cars with Burt.

Kurt and Blaine spent all evening wandering around Lima, ducking into stores whenever they could to avoid the cold. Just as the sky began to darken, Blaine said,

“Hey, you wanna stop to get coffee somewhere? I completely forgot that I asked to get coffee with you, and it’s getting pretty close to dinner time back at Dalton.”

Kurt hadn’t been keeping up at all with the time, and mentally kicked himself. “Yeah, of course.” He pulled out his phone to send his dad a text telling him that he would meet them for dinner soon. It was Friday, after all. “Let’s stop at the Lima Bean, it’s the only place in the next five miles that doesn’t burn their coffee.”

Blaine chuckled, dropping his head ever so slightly, and followed Kurt’s lead as they walked, the moon starting to make its presence known and a few stars shining dimly behind stray clouds as the minutes passed. Just as the sun began to fade into the horizon, Kurt and Blaine turned yet another corner and saw their destination. They hurried inside, relieved to have found some warmth. It was close to dinner time for most Lima residents, so the coffee shop was sparsely populated. Only the murmurs of a handful of conversations and the occasional coffee grinder could be heard.

“I can order, you can go find somewhere for us to sit, if you want.” Kurt fumbled with his bag, searching for his wallet.

Blaine objected, “Don’t be silly, I can pay! You drove me here, after all.”

“Blaine, really, it’s okay!”

“I insist that I pay! It’s only polite.”

Kurt was going to have the last word in. “Okay, since I drove you here, you can contribute gas money. But I’m paying for the coffee.”

Blaine paused for a moment, thinking, then smirked. “You drive a hard bargain. All right, you win.”

Feeling superior for just a moment, Kurt went to order for them, before stupidly remembering that he didn’t know what Blaine wanted. He turned to see where Blaine had sat to ask him, and nearly smacked right into him. Clearly, Blaine had just remembered his order, as well. They both stumbled backward, with Kurt stammering an apology, and Blaine doubled over, laughing.

“Wait, wait.” Kurt pleaded, trying to get Blaine to speak clearly, almost laughing himself. “What do you-”

“Medium drip is my go-to.” Blaine smirked again and pointed towards a table next to a window. He looked at his watch and remarked, “I can stay for fifteen more minutes, then Nick is gonna be here to pick me up.”

Kurt watched as Blaine headed towards the table, once again feeling warm inside. Kurt didn’t know why, they were already inside, but he figured it was just a hot flash. He undid the first button on his coat and approached the counter, where a woman who seemed college-aged asked,

“Hi, what’ll you have?”

Kurt opened his wallet. “A medium drip and a grande nonfat mocha, please.”

“Okay.” She brushed a strand of green hair out of her eyes as she tapped the screen. “That’ll be $7.79, please.”

Kurt silently wondered when the prices had gone up as he inserted his card, and looked back at where Blaine was sitting. To his surprise, he was met with Blaine staring absentmindedly at him. Blaine quickly looked away, mouthing an apology.

“Um, sir?”

Kurt jumped. He hadn’t realized that he needed to remove his card. After waiting for several minutes for their drinks, Kurt finally found his way to the table, and gave Blaine his medium drip.

Their fingers grazed each other for just a moment, and Kurt felt warm again.

_Huh. Weird._

“Thank you, love.” Blaine put on a bad English accent and Kurt giggled as he slid into his seat. Blaine sipped his beverage, then focused his eyes on Kurt, looking curious. “You’re blushing.”

_What?_

“Oh, the managers at the Lima Bean always have the heat blasting in here the second it gets below 60°,” Kurt shed his coat, draping it over the back of his chair. He snorted. “As if they don’t already serve warm beverages.”

“Yeah, it is pretty hot in here…” Blaine took another sip.

“Hey,” Kurt said. “I saw you talking to David and Wes before we left. Anything interesting come up?” Kurt wasn’t known for being subtle, but after a moment of thought, what he said could have been referring to two separate things that had occurred that day. Thankfully, Blaine answered,

“Oh, about what Wes said to you during one of our breaks?”

Kurt could almost collapse, he was so relieved. So, Wes hadn’t told Blaine about the Mr. Kinnor incident. Kurt hastily nodded, gesturing for Blaine to continue.

“Well, he definitely sounded more reasonable than before, but he still needs some convincing to let you into rehearsals. Besides,” Blaine’s phone went off, which he ignored. “-as Wes loves to point out, we don’t even have a set list, yet. I don’t understand why he’s being so rigid about this.”

“I don’t, either. The more that we stress about Regionals, the worse we’ll do. I’m not saying we should wait until the last minute to do anything, but we should let our creativity wander for a bit.” Kurt smirked at Blaine. “You’re not the only valuable member of the Warblers, you know. All the others are sure to have some great ideas.”

“Kurt, I think you might be a genius.”

“I know, but keep going.”

Blaine’s phone vibrated again. And again, Blaine ignored it.

“I can’t believe that Wes didn’t think to ask any of the others their opinion! Kurt, I could kiss you!”

Kurt felt warm again.

**BEEEEEEEEEP!**

“What the hell?”

Blaine quickly turned to look out the window, as did Kurt, and what they saw was Nick and Jeff, gesturing wildly at the car they had parked in front of the coffee shop, both looking rather annoyed and amused.

“Why is Jeff with him? And he’s early!” Blaine huffed. Kurt thought that Blaine looked kind of like a puffed up cat when he was angry. Kurt tried to keep a straight face as he helped Blaine get his stuff together to leave. All the while, Blaine was complaining.

“Thing 1 and Thing 2, I don’t know why I expected Nick to be alone! Couldn’t one of their tires have blown out on their way here?!”

While Blaine was preoccupied with his bag, Kurt looked out the window, and to his horror and confusion, Nick and Jeff were now giving Kurt four thumbs up. Kurt mouthed ‘ _What?’_ before Blaine stood up, glaring. But by that time, Nick and Jeff had progressed into pretending they were asleep.

“Real mature, guys.”

Kurt and Blaine had made their way outside, now able to talk to the pair in the car, who answered.

“You’d be stranded out here if it weren’t for us.” Jeff said, tapping his fingers on the dashboard. 

Nick chimed in from the driver's seat, “So ungrateful!”

Blaine bristled. “You’re early.”

“So you’re mad because we’re punctual?”

“No, he’s mad we interrupted his da-”

Nick smacked Jeff in the arm.

“His quality time with our newest Warbler.”

“Okay, can I say goodbye to him, at least?”

“Oh, we wouldn’t dream of making you leave until you’ve said your farewells.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and turned towards Kurt, who had been silently observing and trying not to laugh. Blaine said, “So, uh, I’ll-I’ll see you on Monday?”

“That’s when we go back to class, yes.”

Blaine snickered. “I’m being serious. Okay,” He pulled Kurt into a hug, which Kurt nervously reciprocated. “I’ll see you then.”

With that awkward departure, Blaine clamored into the backseat of Nick’s car, and Kurt waved as they drove off, back to Dalton. The neon sign hanging over the Lima Bean cast an otherworldly glow on the sidewalk, and the streetlights had come on. Kurt began his walk back to his car, once more feeling warm inside, and he smiled to himself. He looked up.

The moon was bright tonight.


	2. Strings Attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going through his late mother’s things reveals something bearing an odd resemblance to Kurt.

  
“Finn, I’m sure that Rachel is super interesting, but I could really use some help!”

It was precisely 4:56 PM, Sunday, December 5, and Kurt was already exhausted. The better part of Saturday had been spent unpacking, and that day had been no different. His bedroom was already put together, although Kurt still had to decorate. Each of them had designated areas in which to unpack. Burt, who was the strongest, tackled the living room and dining room, with some help from Finn and Puck for heavier pieces. Carole was in charge of her and Burt’s bedroom, as well as all of the bathrooms. Finn was unpacking for his room, as well as the basement. And Kurt insisted he be the one to organize the kitchen, given that he was the one who cooked the most. This also meant that Kurt had the tallest order in unpacking, because the kitchen was home to many different things, which Kurt was kicking himself for getting.

“Why the hell do we have two potato mashers? Why can’t we just have one?” Kurt muttered to himself. He wrestled with one of the drawers next to the fridge, trying to force said potato mashers to fit, but it was no use. Kurt tossed the utensils on the counter with an angry growl. “I want to go back in time and slap myself…”

“Frustrated, kiddo?”

Kurt turned to see his father carrying a box full of plates and bowls. He rushed to help him, forcibly taking the box and setting it down. Kurt was just about to start unloading as Burt caught his arm.

“Take a break. You’re stressing yourself out for no reason.”

“Dad, I can’t, I-”

“Not a suggestion, go sit down. Now.” As Kurt reluctantly went into the living room, he heard his father from the kitchen. “You want some water?”

“I’m okay, Dad!”

Despite Kurt’s refusal, he heard the sink running, and he rolled his eyes. It was no wonder why Burt was so preoccupied with what everyone else was doing, he hadn’t really been allowed to help at all. All the heavier things had already been placed by Finn and Puck, who had visited the previous weekend to help with heavy lifting. Now all that was left were dozens upon dozens of boxes. Kurt rested his head on the back of the couch, feeling the cold wood press against the back of his neck. After a few moments, Burt joined Kurt in the living room, sitting next to him on the couch and handing him a glass of ice water.

“Thank you.” 

“Kurt, you okay?”

Burt was always quick to point out how Kurt was the spitting image of his late wife, in both looks and mannerisms, but never realized that Kurt had inherited some of his qualities as well. Currently, it was the shared lack of subtlety. Kurt took a sip, feeling the icy liquid hit his stomach, which made it obvious to him that he had forgotten to eat anything since that morning.

“Dalton is different than McKinley, I’m still new. But I’ll manage, Dad.”

“I sure as hell hope it’s different than McKinley…”

Kurt remembered all too well what his father did when he learned just how serious the bullying had gotten. Of course, Kurt hadn’t told Burt everything, he hadn’t wanted him to know about the death threat at all, but he had to tell his dad _something._ Kurt also recalled a moment in particular with a shudder, the moment after Burt was made aware of the threat on his son’s life. He had pinned the boy, Dave Karofsky, to a wall and threatened him, much to Kurt’s terror and concern for Burt’s health. Thankfully, Kurt had managed to calm his father down, but Burt insisted on Kurt’s transfer to Dalton.

“Hey, Dad, can you help me with something in the basement? I don’t know where to put some of the things…”

Kurt turned, surprising himself with how angry he felt in such a short period of time. Finn was standing behind him, looking confused and worried, and wearing a thin layer of dust. He wrung his hands nervously. “Uh,” Finn gestured back to the basement. “There are a few boxes that have women’s stuff in them, but I don’t think that they’re Mom’s.”

Both Kurt and Burt responded almost instantly. Kurt snapped, “Don’t touch those boxes!”, while Burt said, “Hold on, Finn, let me help.”

Burt’s gaze shifted from his stepson to his son, from a confused face to a cold face. He sighed, and said, “Both of you, in the basement with me, come on.”

Kurt’s jealous, icy stare lingered on Finn as he rose from the couch with his father. The three men went down the stairs leading into the basement, the stairs creaking loudly as they did so. Burt pulled a chain near the door, and Kurt was greeted to one of the most chaotic rooms he had ever seen.

Organization clearly wasn’t Finn’s strong suit. There were no fully unpacked boxes. Instead, there were many boxes containing handfuls of items, boxes that had been ripped open and rummaged through, and boxes that remained firmly duct taped. The dusty, cluttered room was vast, and Kurt measured that he could easily fit both his and Finn’s rooms in it, and still have room. Finn shuffled past him and Burt and went to pick up a box, clearly labeled;

**_Elizabeth_ **

“No!” Kurt rushed forward, swatting Finn’s hand away. “Those are my mom’s things, don’t touch that!”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Kurt heard his father exclaim behind him. Kurt didn’t care, he knew perfectly well that his late mother had many breakable possessions, which wouldn’t mix with Finn’s clumsiness. He heard Burt continue, “Listen, I know you’re tired, we all are! But that’s no excuse to talk to your brother like that!”

 _‘Stepbrother.’_ Kurt thought, feeling particularly spiteful. Who was Finn to think he could touch things that had belonged to someone he had never met?

“Kurt, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to touch your mom’s stuff.” Finn looked sheepish, and Kurt softened, his heart racing a little less. “Do you wanna unpack it?”

“Okay, how about this.” Burt interjected, picking up the box himself and setting it on a table nearby. “All three of us can do it. Kurt,” Burt turned towards his son with a reprimanding look. “Finn can look at whatever he wants. And Finn,” Burt’s eyes focused on his stepson. “Do _not_ break anything. Do we understand each other?”

The two boys nodded. Kurt was feeling much more at ease than he had been before, as he used a nearby box cutter on one of his mom’s boxes. He also offered to open the box that Finn had chosen, not wanting Finn to rip it open. 

The first thing of note was found by Burt, who handed it to Kurt with a small chuckle. Kurt saw the frame and knew instantly what it was, grabbed it, and hastily hid it behind him. After a small scuffle (Finn really wanted to know what it was), and a reprimand from Burt, Kurt handed Finn the picture, looking as though he had just swallowed glass. But, to Kurt’s shock, the photo wasn’t met with laughter.

“Dude, you did ballet?” Finn squinted. “I can’t tell which one you are.”

“Finn, I’m the only boy in the photo.”

“Oh, there you are!”

Kurt bit his lip, unsure of how to feel. He remembered how much he had been made fun of by the girls in the group, how they had laughed at him. Some of the parents had even shared cruel remarks and poorly hidden jeers. Kurt’s mother had gone mental.

_“Does it make you feel big, picking on a six year old?” Ellie pointed a pale finger at one of the other mothers, who looked like she wanted to vanish and never be seen again. “Last time I checked, my son is one of the only kids that memorized the routine. I was under the impression that your daughter hasn’t even done a damn pirouette, correct?”_

Finn stared in awe at the picture, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He looked more fascinated than amused. And, Kurt’s extreme surprise, he then asked, “Hey man, I’m not asking you to teach me ballet or anything, but do you think you could help with my balance? I almost killed Brittany during rehearsal on Friday, and I don’t want to get on Santana’s bad side.” Finn paused, thinking. “Well, more than I already am.”

Kurt couldn’t help but smile, as well. Much more relaxed, Kurt continued to look through his designated box. He glimpsed something that was most unusual.

It was him.

Well, not quite. It was a rag doll, one that bore a striking resemblance to Kurt. It had brown hair, pale skin, and was wearing a yellow coat, not unlike one that was hanging in Kurt’s closet at that very moment. Burt turned and remarked,

“I don’t think I ever saw your mom with that before.” He took the doll from Kurt, examining it. Kurt looked through the box some more and found a piece of paper bearing his mother’s handwriting. It read;

**_From Your Most Loving Mother_ **

**_09/17/02_ **

Kurt’s breath caught in his throat. He remembered the day his mother died, September 24th, 2002. She must have gotten too sick to give the doll to him. He read what the paper had said to Burt, who stared at the doll for a moment longer, before handing it back to Kurt.

“Kid, I would have given it to you if I’d known your mom wanted me to.” He removed his cap, rubbing his head. “I don’t remember much after September…”

Kurt held the doll close to his chest, feeling as though his mother had spoken to him for the first time in eight years.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry to be putting this story on hold so soon, but some urgent family business came up that has my attention, I’ll update as soon as I can!


End file.
